Turnip Delight: The False General
by Evil Birdo
Summary: In an alternate Subcon, a brave Birdo named Alexandra and her best friend Dianne stumble upon a dangerous foe in a time of great turmoil. The two girls' friendship is tested as they begin to unravel the mystery behind the false general...


(Auther's Note: It's hard to tell where this goes, as it's an original story set in an alternate Subcon, and follows the exploits of a few original Birdoes. The Birdo we all know and hopefully love is not present in this story. It's a story about Birdo_es_, not about Birdo. Just clarifying.

This story is a bit dark, hence the T rating. As this is my first story, I'd appreciate feedback, if possible. If you have anything against homosexual characters, then it'd probably be a good idea not to read any farther.

Hopefully this story isn't as bad as I think it is, but if is, I'd like you to tell me honestly. Thank you.)

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><p>Chapter 1: The Dreamer<p>

March 7th, 1996

The raindrops outside were relentlessly assaulting the roof of my friend's house. There was a bad storm that started maybe an hour ago, and had yet to show any signs of stopping. I was writing in my diary to hopefully take my mind off the tragedy that's happened to both me and my friend, Alexandra.

Three years ago, King Wart had sentenced my mother to death, and my girlfriend Millia is nowhere to be seen. For three years I've had to live without them both. King Wart's tyranny seems to know no bounds - I'm sure that my life is not the only one he has ruined. No, he must've ruined or taken many more before and after my own.

I let out a sigh, and signed my name in my diary.

After writing my daily entry in my diary, I closed it, and took it with me as I lied down on my bed and listened to the rain fall on the roof. Earlier today, I had planted vegetables for tomorrow's breakfast meal before the storm arrived, so they were no doubt drowning.

I began to close my eyes, putting my diary to my heart and losing myself in my imagination. I was always a bit of a dreamer. I'd imagine all sorts of things, put them into words, and write about it. As a child, this happened very often, and as a result, daydreaming became a usual habit of mine.

"Are you done writing in your diary, Dianne?" asked my friend, who was in the other room.

I jumped in surprise, and hid my diary under my bed, all the while saying, "Yes, Alexandra! I'm sorry for taking so long." After regaining my composure, I walked into the living room.

"It is not a problem, dear," Alexandra responded. She gazed protectively at her sleeping child, cradled in the mother's arms. The sound of the rain had started to make my eyelids heavy.

"One would think her deaf," I began to say, nearly yawning, "to sleep through a storm this violent." The mother giggled, and rubbed her daughter's tummy.

On the outside, Alexandra looked just like every other Birdo, complete with ribbon, claws, birthmarks, and all. But she was more than just anyone. Valiant, yet amiable, her appearance belies her strength. Her skin gleamed a light-orange tone, akin to that of a peach. With the belief that a reason to help another is never needed, she has many times risked her life to save another of her kind, whether or not ot was someone she knew. She was beautiful.

"I hope by the time she grows up, Subcon will turn into a better place for her." The mother said. She then shook her head, and began to frown. "What a silly dream. How could I be so hopeful at a time like this?" I sat down next to her, and put my hand on her leg.

"You couldn't live without being hopeful, Alex. I think about my love all the time, and she keeps me going, even though we're separated."

Alexandra looked at me, unconvinced. "I just cannot stop thinking about what the king is doing to all of us." She began to say. "We've done nothing to him. Why does he hate us so?"

I'd failed in comforting her, so I took my hand off her leg, and looked at her baby dismally. The safety of her friends and innocent Birdoes concerned Alexandra, of course. But even then, Angela meant the world to her mother. And why wouldn't she be?

Every little thing about the world piqued Angela's interest, like most children. It was a playful curiousness that made her adorable - but then, in our world, being ruled by a tyrant, curiosity rarely was a fun thing to think about. Knowing that anything could happen at any time, we try to stay our minds away from the thought of omens and terrible deeds, which results in us thinking about it. A lose-lose situation. Such is the wonder of curiosity.

A minute or two passed, filled with silence and rain. Eventually, we decided it was time for bed.

The mother went to put her baby in her crib, while I headed back into our bedroom. I put on my nightgown, and climbed into bed. I fell asleep before Alexandra had come back, thanks to the rain. Listening to the sounds of rain always made my eyelids heavy, and always put me in the mood to think, or to dream. My thoughts turned to my girlfriend; A purple-skinned Birdo, so kind and so beautiful. Her name was Millia. I dreamed of nothing but her and I being together, until we were married, and until we passed on.


End file.
